A sunny morning beckons me out of bed, even though I know it means a sweaty hike up the mountains. I make an early start and to my surprise it isn’t quite as hard as I was expecting. The heat is the real killer, and I relish and shade I can get. At the top of the hill I am treated to a nk e view of the lake, and a welcome surprise. The ride yesterday felt neither overly taxing nor too easy, so I didn’t realise how high I actually was. From the peak of the mountain I had just climbed I saw a dramatic drop down, far steeper and further than I could have ever imagined. For an age I dashed down switchback after switchback, not knowing when it would end. The switchbacks did end eventually, and right at the end was a sign with the angle of the ascent. 18%. I had definitely taken the easy way up.
I followed the valley down a short way back to the highway which would take me east. At this junction I ran into two road cyclists, who treated me to a local delicacy, a kind of pancake sandwich with cream as the filling. They also warned me that the cycle route was about to send me onto the busy highway for the next 5 kilometres.
It was a grim affair, the highway had a tiny shoulder and the guardrail came very close to the pavement, robbing me of an escape route. I fell back to my ultra conservative method of dealing with traffic. With my eyes glued to the rear view mirror I would cycle in the middle of the road. When I saw a car behind me start to try and overtake, I would pull back to the outside of the lane. This would force the cars to give me room on my terms rather than theirs, and if they weren’t completely attentive I could better judge if I was going to be in danger. I wasn’t completely unkind to the traffic, and I would stop at every gap in the barrier to allow the train of cars and trucks behind me to pass. After stressful 5 kilometres a side road appeared and I didn’t hesitate to jump onto it and follow it all the way to Voss.
Been to Queenstown, NZ? Congratulations, you no longer have any nees to visit Voss.
Extreme sports. Check.
Big lake full of adventure seekers. Check. Drunk Americans. Check.
Fergburger. You wish Norway.
I check out the tourist information booth to scope out the area and decide to check out a nearby ravine before heading north to a unique waterfall named Tvinnefossen. The ravine was okay, if a bit underwhelming so I made my way via backroads up to Tvinnefossen.
It was getting dark as I approached the falls. They were wide and split up into a dozen smaller waterfalls that eventually ran down square blocks jutting out of the hillside. There was a campground at the base so I found a good spot and settled on for the night.